


Spot of Mummery: A Chocobo's Tale

by Spot of Mummery (Aywren)



Series: Spot of Mummery [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Action, Adventure, Allag, Allagan, Chocobos, Fantasy, Final Fantasy XIV - Freeform, Gen, Magic, Quest, ffxiv - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aywren/pseuds/Spot%20of%20Mummery
Summary: Amon was once the celebrated lead Technomancer of the ancient civilization of Allag. A loyal citizen to the crazed Emperor Xande, he was defeated when the Alliance, lead by the Warrior of Light, stormed Sycrus Tower......or so the world thought...When Amon and Mocho take a job to retrieve a lost chocobo, it turns out to be more dangerous than they expect. Amon's magic shows itself in defense against enemy attack, and now Mocho is suspicious of exactly who the Allagan is.
Series: Spot of Mummery [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1167758
Kudos: 2





	1. A Chocobo's Tale

“A… lost chocobo?” Amon glanced up from the job flier. “Really, Mocho?”

The Lalafell spread his arms with a furrowed brow. “Sorry. I’m not quite the sniffer-of-opportunity that Ajir was. Pickings are slim, and this seemed like something the two of us could handle since the girls are busy today.”

“Shopping, you mean.”

“They deserve a little recreation time,” Mocho said softly. “They’re just young lasses, still.”

“Aye, I suppose,” Amon gave in, slinging his quiver over his shoulder.

“Probably a wise idea to bring that. Raincatcher Gully is full of all sorts of wildlife. Much of it dangerous.”

The Elezen nodded, glad that one of them knew the area they were headed into. This new Eorzean geography, especially far outside the establishments, was still a mystery to him. He had become more familiar with the Shroud lately, but their jobs kept them moving into unknown locations. He didn’t like not being prepared.

The trip to Wineport was uneventful. When they arrived, Amon allowed Mocho to iron out the details. It seemed pretty straightforward – a merchant travelling the trails of Raincatcher Gully suffered a spooked and run-away chocobo. Since he had two others, he was able to safely bring his wares to town, but the loss of one bird was enough to put his livelihood in danger.

The way the merchant talked, this particular chocobo was of important stock. Not fully trained yet, but a prize among its kind. Their job was to located the bird and bring it back unharmed.

“I still think this is beneath us,” Amon muttered as they left the gates. Mocho had to maintain a near-jog to keep up with the Bard’s much longer strides. That’s what he got for picking lousy jobs.

“I know, but the pay is good.” The Lalafell reasoned in return.

“The pay is good for a lot of things, my friend. That doesn’t mean they’re worth doing.”

“Are you going to grumble the whole way, Amon?”

“Maybe.”

Mocho just sighed. Then, after jogging along for a short time, began, “You know, when I was a lad…”

And that was it. The Lalafell began to spin one of his “When I was a lad” stories that always pacified Amon. Since the Bard was a storyteller himself, and eager for knowledge about the Eorzean people, Mocho seemed well aware that his tales were welcome, and often flourished them to ease what was an otherwise somewhat awkward companionship.

It wasn’t that Amon disliked Mocho. But his charm didn’t have the same effect on the older Lalafell as it did on Zuri and Koh. There was something in the way that Mocho watched him that told Amon the paladin-aspirant knew more than he let on about. This put a distance between the two.

In fact, this was the first job he’d taken that paired him with Mocho alone. For the current moment, the Lalafell was content to keep things amiable between them. And Amon welcomed the stories he told.

So they walked together with that one thing established between them.

“Listen,” Amon put a hand out to Mocho, indicating a full stop.

They’d been travelling for about a bell, moving deeper into the sub-tropical forest. Bugs hummed around them lazily and the sound of water trickling in the distance capered in the air.

The Elezen had always had sharp hearing – even his cloned form maintained that trait. He knew what he heard now, though it came from far away…

“Chocobo.”

“Where?” Mocho squinted, trying to hear what his companion did without result.

“This way,” Amon motioned to him, moving carefully, trying not to make too much noise as he followed his senses. No good in spooking the creature further into the forest when they’d only just tracked it down.

The sound of a bird in distress became louder as they pushed through vines and undergrowth. The ground sank under Amon’s weight as he walked, firmament too saturated with swampy moisture to remain solid. Soon, it began to bog down his motion, making it nearly impossible for poor Mocho to wade through.

Thankfully, a flicker of red feathers in the middle of the clearing indicated they’d located their target. However, the bird, too, was stuck in the mire, struggling with mud-splattered wings to try to free itself. It was the largest chocobo that Amon had seen, and while powerfully built, its size and weight were working against it, pulling it deeper as it fought.

“Amon!” Mocho’s voice sounded behind him, distressed. As small as he was, there was no way he could make it any further into the swamp.

“Hold on…” The Elezen grit his teeth, working his way a backwards few steps. He reached down with both hands, and like lifting a child from under the arms, hoisted Mocho up, and deposited him on a spot of higher ground.

From the look on Mocho’s face, he was rather embarrassed about the whole exchange. But they had a bigger situation to worry about.

Amon was already pulling out a rope and tying it around his waist.

“You’re going out there?”

“What option do we have if we’re to bring it back, alive?”

Mocho’s worry grew, reflecting on his face openly. “I don’t know that it’s worth the risk.”

Amon flashed him a slight grin. “Aye, and you _won’t_ know until you try.”

The Elezen tossed him the other end of the rope, cutting off any other attempts of dissuasion. He knew this was insane… and had no idea why he was putting his neck on the line for something like this.

“If it gets too much, I’ll turn back,” Amon promised.

“All right,” Mocho finally agreed, having secured the rope to the sturdiest tree he could find.

The Bard then turned, making the long, arduous path through the mire towards the struggling bird.

It was nothing but pure grit and determination that carried Amon’s steps forward. He ignored the weird things that squished about him as the mire rose from his shins to his upper legs, then almost to his waist. Had Mocho tried to come this way, he would have been swallowed whole.

Finally, after carefully picking his way, Amon was able to reach out and take hold of the chocobo’s bridle. The huge bird rolled its eyes at the Elezen in pitched fear.

Under normal circumstances, the beast could have easily taken his arm off in a beak that size. But it had worn itself out in the struggle with the elements, and while it balked at a stranger’s approach, it could not pull free of Amon’s strong grasp.

“Shhhh, now,” the Elezen murmured to the bird in calming tones. He had little experience with these creatures, but he did have one thing to fall back on.

Music.

He began to hum softly, just an old tune his mother once sang to calm him as a child. He’d long forgotten the words, but not the melody. And in weaving some of the meager aether invested in his Bardic abilities, Amon became a bastion of coaxing calmness.

The chocobo responded to the sound, soothed, and stopped struggling against his rescuer’s hand. Somehow, very carefully, Amon was able to get the bird moving through the mire, back towards the higher ground where Mocho watched expectantly.

Amon didn’t stop humming until they were well out of the muck. By then, the bird was completely under his thrall, following with placid strides.

“Look at you,” the Elezen tissed at it with his tongue while removing the rope from his waist. “What a mess.”

“He seems unharmed,” Mocho observed, walking around the chocobo to confirm.

“Probably just spooked himself into the swamp. He’ll be all right, now. A little smelly, but all right,” Amon nodded, brushing some of the mud from the bird’s feathers.

“Might have been a blessing for him since that means nothing else could get…” Mocho’s words trailed off as his face paled. His eyes widened, staring at something in the forest behind Amon.

The Bard swung about sharply, following his companion’s gaze. Just in time to see the flash of fangs and claws as a coeurl leapt for them.


	2. A Chocobo's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Amon and Mocho take a job to retrieve a lost chocobo, it turns out to be more dangerous than they expect. Amon's magic shows itself in defense against enemy attack, but now Mocho is suspicious of exactly who the Allagan is.

“Amon!” the Lalafell shouted as he threw himself, shield first, selflessly between the Bard and the giant lunging coeurl.

Metal squealed as the massive claws raked down the bulwark’s face. Mocho’s own strength wasn’t enough to meet the enemy.

As the beast bore down on him, his feet squelched and slid over the slick ground, and he fought to remain standing against the onslaught. The huge jaws clamped down on his sword arm, the metal of the armor withstanding the pressure, but only just.

The Lalafell cried out in pain. Blood began to trickle from between his gauntlet plates.

A shudder racked the coeurl as several solid thunks sounded. Amon loosened arrow after arrow into the creatures’ hide, charging forward at full speed. When the feline didn’t release Mocho, even pelted with arrows as it was, the Bard knew a less orthodox approach was needed.

Not breaking stride, the Elezen gripped his bow in both fists – one hand positioned on each end – and slammed the weapon, full-weight, into the side of the coeurl’s head. He heard Mocho’s shout as they all tipped to one side under his momentum, then saw the jaws open and release.

Free of the vice, the Lalafell staggered back, gasping from shocked pain. His sword arm was a limp mess of bent metal and blood.

Amon didn’t have time to nock his bow as the coeurl, now fully enraged, whipped around and lunged at them again. He saw the reflection of himself in the feral eyes, felt the heat of the beast’s breath and rage… and then something within him responded with an ancient, primordial energy.

He knew how to weave it.

It only took the proper flow of aether.

As Amon lifted his hands, a motion that could have been mistaken for a stance of self-preservation, the air grew frigid around him.

The moisture condensed.

Ice formed and swirled around the lunging beast.

Then in a pulse of triumphant aether, a large block of ice fully encased the creature, freezing it only a fulm away.

For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing as Mocho and Amon both attempted to make sense of what just happened. Then, the Elezen’s ears caught the sound of distant growls – the scent of blood and struggle must have called the rest of the clowder.

This was well enough, because Amon didn’t want Mocho to think too much on the block of ice that was already beginning to melt in the heavy heat. Instead, the Bard grabbed the Lalafell gently by one shoulder and took the chocobo’s bridle in the other hand.

“GO!” Amon commanded in a voice fit for the big stage.

Mocho blinked awake at that. Then with a shake of his head, he began to run. He held his wounded arm close to his chest, in obvious pain as he struggled to keep up with his companion’s longer strides.

The Elezen kept a sharp eye on him, and another over his shoulder. The sound of feline pursuit wasn’t far behind. The chocobo was too frantic and worn out to ride… if it was tame enough to do so. Their options were running slim.

“There!” Mocho wheezed, motioning to a small cave, half obscured by dense forest foliage.

Amon didn’t respond, but changed his direction, running towards it. He didn’t know what was inside, but whatever it may be, his bow was ready to deal with it.

Thankfully, the cave was empty as they rushed into its cool safety. It was just big enough to allow the chocobo to fit within, and proved to be defend-able. As the coeurl snarled and snapped at the entrance, the beasts learned very quickly that to stick head or hide within would win them an arrow between the eyes.

Soon, they no longer tried to find a way inside. Instead, they prowled the mouth of the cave in a waiting game. One where they knew they had the advantage.

Amon had to forcefully pry the bent remains of the gauntlet off of Mocho’s arm to tend it. It was a bruised and bleeding wreck. He was hardly the healer that Koh was, but he did the best he knew to wrap it with the supplies they’d brought.

Kneeling next to the Lalafell, he handed him a small blue bottle of healing liquids.

Mocho refused, “We’re not out of this yet. We may need this later.”

“Don’t be silly. We have more. And you’re in pain.”

“I’ll live,” the Lalafell said with a stubborn look.

Amon was of half a mind to force it down his companion’s throat, but he let it go. Instead, he went to check on the chocobo, who had surprisingly managed to get through all of this unharmed. The bird was rolling its eyes in fear again, picking up the scent of predators not too far away.

The Bard murmured to it, stroking the dirty feathers of its head and working to calm it again. It only halfway worked this time. Not that he could really blame the bird. He still felt his heartbeat thrumming is his own chest.

His magic had come to him again, in a moment of great stress. But if it hadn’t been for that…

This appeared to be what was on Mocho’s mind as well. Eventually, the Lalafell looked over at him and asked, “Do you want to tell me what just happened out there?”

Amon sat down, his back against the cool stone. He replied, “Not really.”

This would usually deter most people. But not Mocho. “I may not be a magic user, but I know that was no mere Thaumaturge spell.”

The Bard remained silent, putting on his stoic face.

Seeing this, the paladin-initiate stopped being vague, “From the time we first me, I’ve always sensed you were hiding things from us.”

“Mmm…”

“We work as a _team_ , Amon. We’re a Free Company. We’re _friends_ ,” the Lalafell motioned with his one good hand. “All of that requires a measurement of trust.”

“And you don’t trust me.”

Mocho opened his mouth, trying to find the right words. “You conceal your face, tell us nothing about who you are or where you’re from. We don’t know what you’re after.”

“And you don’t trust me,” Amon repeated.

“It feels more like _you_ don’t trust _us_.”

The Elezen was silent to that. What could he say in the face of the truth?

“Am I wrong?” Mocho lifted an eyebrow.

“I have my reasons,” the Bard finally answered. “There’s some things better left unknown.”

“I disagree! Why would you—“

Amon instinctually fell back into utilizing the voice he once used when commanding servants and the void. It was one that did not invite argument. “Is it not enough to know that the magic I cast was done so in order to _protect_ you?”

It was Mocho’s turn to fall silent.

“I have my reasons,” the Elezen repeated, his frown indicating that he was done with this conversation. “And if you _do_ hold any measure of trust for me, then trust that I keep my silence because I _must_.”


	3. A Chocobo's Tale

“You and I need to talk.”

Amon reached out with both hands, placing them gently on either side of the chocobo’s broad head. The bird shivered, still aware of the danger that lay just beyond their door, but focused on the Elezen, giving a soft chirp at the touch.

“Mocho’s not looking too good. I’m not sure how much time we have,” the Bard told the chocobo. “I don’t know how much of this you understand, but I could really use your help.”

“Kweh.”

“Is that a _kweh_ you’ll help or a _kweh_ just to _kweh_?”

“Kweh.”

“Fair enough,” Amon stroked his fingers through the dirty feathers, thinking how majestic the creature would look should the grime of the swamp be washed away. “We came out here to rescue you. You know that?”

“K-keweeh.”

“I don’t know if there’s some sort of chocobo etiquette about who gets to ride or whatever. But Mocho’s just a little fellow. He’s not that heavy. Do you think you can carry him? Just back to town?”

The chocobo seemed to muse about this, one eye focused on Amon. Then finally, it gave a soft whistle.

The Bard smiled in amusement. It was hard to believe that this creature wasn’t understanding the things he asked. “I appreciate it, friend. I’m going to do what I can to see that you both get out of here safe.”

The bird responded by nibbling some of Amon’s silver hair.

“Alright. Alright. That’s inappropriate,” he laughed softly, nudging the beak away from his head.

Then, the Elezen turned to regard his companion.

Mocho was curled up against the stone, shivering and sweating at the same time. The fever had come upon him quickly. Even a taste of the healing potions did little to help the situation. No doubt, these creatures had some kind of venom in their bite – the reason they waited so patiently outside of the cave was for their prey to succumb. Only, Amon had no intention of letting Mocho die there.

The Bard strode over to the Lalafell, kneeling down next to him. He felt a little guilty for having been so sharp with Mocho earlier. After all, the reason his companion was suffering now was because he had jumped in to protect Amon from the first blow.

“Mocho,” his voice was a good deal softer than before. “I need you to wake up.”

The Lalafell stirred, his eyes watery and dim. He struggled to talk, “Amon… something’s not right with me.”

“I know. I’m going to get you back to town. The longer we stay here, the worse you’re getting.”

“How…?”

“I’m not giving you an option in this,” Amon said sternly. “You’re going to let me lead them away. Then, you ride the chocobo back to town.”

“Wha…”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not going to leave… you…”

“You’re not leaving me,” Amon frowned. “I choose this. I can handle myself.”

At least, that’s what he hoped.

“Amon… no…”

“This is not up for debate. I’ll lash you to that bird and _make_ you ride if I have to,” the Elezen crossed his arms, looking as large and intimidating as he could manage.

Somehow, this just made the Lalafell weakly laugh.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Someone like _you_ … sacrificing yourself… for _me_?” The words were very quiet. Almost so quiet that Amon wasn’t sure he actually heard them.

“What did you say?”

But Mocho didn’t answer. He seemed lost in the folds of his fever again.

Amon burst from the mouth of the cave, flute raised to his lips, piping a cacophony of sound as he sprinted. If seeing their meal running out under the nose didn’t rile them up enough to chase him, the terrible noise he was making should be enough to put them in a rage.

He never claimed to be the fastest runner. His cloned body was still having problems adjusting to motor controls, despite him spending hours working with it. Still, Amon was able to break the through the underbrush on the far side before the beasts began to chase in earnest.

As soon as he saw the cave entrance clear, he hit the highest note he could on his flute. The signal for Mocho to make his escape.

From the corner of his eye, the Bard caught a flash of red, and knew they were on their way. He smiled a brief moment.

Then the pain ripped through him, nearly sending him stumbling. One of the coeurl had come upon him faster than he realized – maybe it was waiting out further than the others for an ambush.

Twisting, he began firing into the beast’s face. The pain in his shoulder where the claws tore in made it hard to hold his arrow straight, and many of his shots fired off-target.

Breathing heavy, he pushed himself to keep running. But the reality was, he didn’t have much ground left to him. The felines were much faster than he was, and there were so many more of them than before.

Amon squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for that hint of aether to come back to him as it did earlier. For the magic that might save him.

But it was like screaming into an uncaring void. There was nothing there.

And he knew he was on his own.

Mocho held on to the chocobo’s make-shift saddle, struggling to stay awake and balanced. The bird’s strides were huge and uneven, like a mount who had never had training with a rider. But there wasn’t much to be done for that.

Amon was right about one thing… this was the only way they were getting out of that cave. But what the Bard didn’t realize was that Mocho had no intention in being told what to do. Not when that led to the death of one of his companions… no matter _who_ that companion really was.

The coeurls caught up to Amon faster than Mocho expected. He saw one leap and strike, saw the Elezen take the blow and reel. Knew that there wasn’t much time.

“Hey! Hey!” Mocho shouted to the chocobo, trying to get its attention. One of his brothers was a chocobo handler by trade, and he’d picked up a few tricks from this over the years.

The bird chirped, indicating it knew it was being addressed.

“Amon needs our help,” the Lalafell pointed. “I know you don’t like the coeurls, but if we don’t do something…”

The chocobo warbled in worry.

“Come on, you’re _huge!_ You could _flatten_ those cats!”

The chocobo warbled again, though sounding a bit thoughtful about its place in the food chain. Then, as if this was the deciding factor, it gave a solid chirp and charged straight towards where Amon was fighting to stay ahead of the claws of death.

Mocho’s eyes widened as he felt the massive bird launch itself upward. Clinging tight, he winced as sharp talons came down with a ferocity, shredding the mottled hide of the coeurl closest to the running Elezen, leaving the beast tattered in the huge chocobo’s wake.

Amon did a shocked double-take over his shoulder. Even half hidden by a mask, the expression was plain to see. He bellowed at them, “YOU’RE CRAZY!”

“SO ARE YOU!” Mocho shouted back. Then he threw his good arm out towards the Bard. “GET ON!”

The surprise transformed into a wild grin, and Amon laughed, leaping for the back of the chocobo.

The bird stumbled a bit as new weight was added and the Elezen fumbled to pull himself up and become seated. But then, with a burst of amazing speed, the three of them shot out of Raincatcher’s Gully, down the path towards safety of Wineport.


	4. A Chocobo's Tale

When Amon finally reined the chocobo in at Wineport, he was met with worried shouts from Koh and Zuri. The girls had come looking for them, and finding them no-where, had grown more and more concerned as the night settled over the land.

Koh took one look at Mocho’s wounded arm and Amon’s sliced shoulder and gave her customary, “Oh my gods!”

“What happened?” Zuri echoed. “Mocho! He looks sick!”

Amon grimaced and slid down from the bird’s back. Then he helped pull Mocho down to his feet.

“I can stand,” the Lalafell said woozily.

“You both need a sickbed right away!” Koh demanded.

“I have to finish the job,” Amon told her, motioning to the chocobo.

Zuri was already fussing over Mocho, taking him to the nearest place for rest.

“You did all that to get a chocobo?” the Miqo’te frowned up at him, her ears folding back in disapproval.

“I guess so.”

Then Koh frowned. “Okay, finish your job. But I’ll come looking for you if you take too long.”

“I’m earning threats now?” Amon grinned.

“Coming back looking like this? Yes, you are!” She huffed and walked off in the direction that Zuri and Mocho went.

“One chocobo, returned. A little muddy but unharmed. As contract stated,” Amon handed the reins of the bird back to the merchant who originally hired them.

The Lalafell just beamed and fussed over his re-acquired mount, then turned a keen eye on the Bard. “Where’s the other fellow that was with you?”

“We had some trouble with local wildlife,” the Elezen admitted. “He’s being tended to in the infirmary. I’m headed there myself.”

The merchant took notice of Amon’s wounds and pursed his lips tightly. “I apologize. I wasn’t aware you’d be walking into that kind of danger.”

“It’s a risk you take.”

“I shall add extra to our agreed amount in order to cover—“

“It’s not necessary,” Amon held up a hand. “We have an acting healer in our Free Company. She’ll be able to take care of it.”

“If you insist?” The merchant eyed him, as if never seeing an adventurer turn down more Gil than was originally agreed upon.

Amon wasn’t sure why he’d done that himself. He simply accepted the payment and turned to head out of the stables.

That’s when the chocobo began to warble in concern. The further the Elezen walked, the louder the bird’s distress became. Then, much to the surprise of the merchant, the bird shook itself free of the lead, and rushed behind Amon, lightly butting the Bard in the crook of his back with his head.

Amon winced at the pain this caused and turned quickly. “What… no. You’re back with your master. Go on now.”

The chocobo warbled again sadly, followed by a short series of chirps.

“You heard me.”

By now, the merchant approached, taking the bridle again. “He seems to be fond of you.”

“That’s because he’s a silly bird,” Amon said, running a hand over the chocobo’s top feathers with a sigh. “Take care of him.”

The chocobo just continued to make distressed sounds as the Elezen walked way.

Mocho’s fever was high but not untreatable. Amon had done a surprisingly good job of wrapping the wounded arm and keeping it clean. But as Koh worked her healing magic into the Lalafell’s system, his words, more than his health, began to concern her.

At first, he was just rambling woozily, as if he’d had more than he could handle to drink. It didn’t make a lot of sense until he began to talk about Amon.

“Did you know he can cast magic?” Mocho asked from out of nowhere.

“What?” Koh blinked at him, her own magic stuttering in surprise.

“Amon.”

She laughed, trying to cover up her unease. “What makes you say that?”

“I saw it.”

“You also have a very high fever, Mocho,” Koh tried to misplace his experience. She didn’t like the feeling of bending the truth, but she also was determined to keep Amon’s identity a secret… at least, until Amon deemed it was time to reveal himself.

“It wasn’t my fever,” Mocho argued, slurring his words. “This happened before I fell ill.”

“Maybe it was Bard trickery.”

“No, Koh,” The Lalafell said, suddenly looking quite lucid. “He wrapped a coeurl in a block of ice. Froze it dead on the spot. That is far from Bard trickery… it’s high-grade Thaumaturgy.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. If that’s what really happened… if that was true… The prospect of Amon’s magic coming back to him made her shiver.

“Just rest for now.” Koh bit back her fear and led the Lalafell to the nearest bed.

But Mocho wasn’t done. As he lay back on the pillow, his eyes growing heavy, he murmured, “Koh… be careful. He’s not who he appears to be…”


	5. A Chocobo's Tale

In the deep recess of night, Amon awoke to the distant sound of someone talking. It took him a moment to remember where he was – a sickbed in Wineport, where he’d been tended for gashes along his shoulder after the coeurl attack.

His whole arm felt hot and stiff under the bandages, and it ached to move too quickly. He wasn’t concerned about it, though. He had faith in Koh’s healing abilities.

Maybe that’s why when her voice drifted into his dreams, it woke him. He didn’t know who she was talking to, but she sounded very upset.

With a groan, he pushed himself out of bed and padded across the stone floor to peer out into the hallway. Following the sound, he eventually found Koh all alone, under one of the stone archways in the moonlight.

At first, he was going to approach her, curious as to why she was talking to herself. But then, realization of whom she was talking to came to him as he listened.

“Noah…” Koh said softly, clutching her hands in front of her chest. “Please. I need your help. I don’t know what to do.”

The cat-girl was silent for a long moment, as if waiting for some internal response. She didn’t appear to get it, so she continued talking.

“You heard what Mocho said today. I… I believe him. I don’t think it was a fever dream.”

Amon pursed his lips, having an inkling of what this was about. Staying absolutely still, tucked in the shadows of the stone, he waited to see if he was correct.

“If Amon gets his magic back, are we going to lose him?”

The Elezen was taken aback at the sound of near-tears in her voice.

“Will he really just give into the temptation of power, like he said? Would he really go back to being…” Koh stopped, as if she didn’t dare speak the rest out loud.

Amon stood in the shadows, drowning under the weight of miserable guilt.

He remembered the day that he told her those things, just to be belligerent and cruel. And though he’d apologized for upsetting her the day after, he hadn’t realized that something about that conversation had remained… and caused her this much distress.

Why was she so concerned about a wretch like him? He couldn’t understand.

Koh’s head was bowed as he approached her. Though he tried to move quietly, her ears perked, catching his sound. She whirled around to face him with a start, then quickly began to scrub her face with her sleeves, trying to cover her emotion.

Amon didn’t even pretend. There was no point to it. He cut right to the chase. “What Mocho told you was true.”

“You were listening.” She sniffled accusingly and continued to wipe her face as he came to stand next to her under the arch.

“Yes,” he said. Then he asked curiously, “Does Noah respond when you talk to her like that?”

“Sometimes.”

“Not tonight, though.”

“No.”

“She probably doesn’t want to deal with me, either,” Amon attempted to joke.

Koh’s ears just remained folded back against her head. She wasn’t in the mood for his humor.

He cleared his throat, then told her, “Something about this cloned form doesn’t connect to the aether quite right. It blocks my ability to channel and cast. But… from time to time… I’m able to break through that block and make it happen.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I don’t fully know. I told you before that I can’t make any promises about what’s going to happen to me,” Amon grimaced. “Trust me, I’m not happy about that either.”

Koh’s eyes flicked up to his face. “Don’t you _want_ your magic back?”

He looked out at the quiet stars for a long moment before answering. “If it means that I lose myself like I did before… no.”

She gave a tiny gasp. “Do you _mean_ that?”

“Mmmm…”

“That’s _not_ what you said before.”

“No, it’s not,” Amon agreed. “I’ve thought about it. And I’ve changed my mind.”

Koh’s ears perked forward, eyes rounding, reflecting the moonlight.

“Is that such a surprise?” He muttered. “It was a miserable existence in the end. Now that I have another chance, I want to do something different.”

Her surprise transitioned into relief mingled with joy. “Then… you’ll…? _”_

He nodded slowly. “I’ll _try_ not to let myself get swallowed up in the temptation of magic like I did before. Still no promises, though.”

“You don’t know… how… much… I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” Koh’s eyes misted up again, this time with happiness.

He still didn’t understand why she was so emotional. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

She had a strange expression on her face as she continued to watch him.

“What?”

“I’m going to hug you now,” Koh warned him.

Amon took a step back in surprise. “No… Koh…”

“Yesssss!” she came for him with open arms. “You owe me, Amon!”

He rolled his eyes and groaned. “Fine. Just… do it quickly.”

Koh wrapped her arms around him, her little face beaming as Amon frowned down in return. The Elezen then sighed, patted her head gently, and complained, “This is inappropriate.”


	6. A Chocobo's Tale

They remained in Wineport for a few days, allowing Mocho to rest as his fever began to subside. Under Koh’s careful watch and healing, he sprang back much more quickly than Amon expected, even having full use of his arm in very short order.

The Lalafell said nothing else about Amon’s magic after the fever vanished. Likely, it was illness that led him to talk out of turn. Once Mocho was back in full awareness, he didn’t even give a sign that such things concerned him… though Amon had a feeling that they did.

Koh, on the other hand, was in extremely high spirits after their talk. Amon saw something within her transform, as if some huge weight was taken from her shoulders. He had no clue that he’d been the cause of so much of her stress.

Seeing her happier made him certain that the choice he made was the right one.

Thankfully, Zuri remained unaware of the whole thing. Amon wasn’t sure how much longer that would be the case, especially with Mocho having caught on to him. Something in him dreaded trying to explain the truth to the girl, so he kept silent about it… whether that was the right thing to do or not.

In fact, Zuri was sitting with him when the letter arrived that afternoon.

“Mister Amon?” The delivery boy inquired, peering at him with the folded paper in one hand.

The Elezen glanced over curiously, “Aye?”

“Message, sir.” He handed the note over and gave a bow, being on his way.

“Oooh… what’s that?” Zuri instantly hung over one of his shoulder to get a look. She teased, “A love letter?”

“Zuri, no,” Amon half grimaced, half laughed, but allowed her to watch as he opened it. His eyes capered over the words, a frown forming slowly.

“What is it?”

“It’s from that Lalafell merchant…”

“The one with the chocobo?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Sounds like something’s happened with the bird and he wants me to come to the stables.”

“Oh no! I wonder what’s wrong.”

“He didn’t specify. But I suppose I should respond.”

“I’ll come with you,” Zuri offered.

Amon peered at the Au Ra for a moment, then agreed as he got to his feet. “Very well.”

“We thought he might shake himself out of this,” the merchant told Amon. “But he refuses to touch his feed or come out of the stall.”

“My job was to return the bird. I’m afraid I can’t take responsibility for an illness it obtained during its time in the swamp,” the Bard responded as diplomatically as possible. This chocobo was an expensive piece of stock, he knew, so if he was getting pegged for damaged goods after the fact, he knew there was no way he could afford to pay the recompense.

“No… no. It’s nothing like that,” the merchant motioned him towards the stable. “I just have a hunch that I’d like to test.”

“Mmm…” Amon followed the Lalafell suspiciously, then peered into the paddock.

The red chocobo was curled up at the far end of the stall, looking just about as sad as any chocobo ever could. Greens were left untouched in one corner as it emitted what sounded strangely like a sigh.

Zuri had to climb on the fence to get a better look, concern plain on her face.

That’s when the merchant asked, “Would you humor me and talk to him?”

“Talk… to…” Amon thumbed a motion at the chocobo. Then he groaned, leaned in over the fence and directed his voice at the creature. “Hey, bird! What’s going on here?”

Instantly, the all top feathers perked up as the chocobo lifted his head with a questioning warble. Dark eyes focused on Amon and it trilled in what could only be delight, struggling to his feet to come and greet the Elezen.

“That’s what I thought,” the merchant mused.

The bird butted its head gently against Amon’s hand, acting for all the world like an excited puppy.

“He likes you, Amon!” Zuri laughed, and petted the chocobo, too.

“Indeed,” the Lalafell nodded to Amon. “The chocobo appears to have bonded with you when you rescued him.”

“What?” the Bard frowned.

“It happens sometimes, especially with ones that haven’t had training. They connect to someone, and pine away if they are separated too long.”

“That’s very nice and all,” Amon nudged the chocobo away as it began nibbling his hair. “But you’ve made it clear this bird was a big investment to you.”

“He is,” the merchant sighed. “And to see such a fine creature waste away is more shame than the loss of income. That’s why I was hoping you could help.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the kind of gil it would take to…”

“That’s not what I’m after.”

“Mmm. Then what?” Amon frowned. This was getting more and more complicated.

“I’m willing to offer you a work arrangement in exchange for the chocobo,” the merchant told him.

Zuri turned to watch the Elezen with large eyes, not sure what that would mean for their group.

“I…” the Bard thought for a moment.

This Lalafell was a stranger, but it was obvious that he went above and beyond for even just his chocobos. Though Amon didn’t fully trust him yet, it was hard to believe the merchant had any other motives behind the offer. Still…

“I know this is a lot to consider…”

“My main issue,” Amon began, “Is that I have obligations to my Free Company party.”

Zuri perked up hearing that. Then she said, “I’m sure we could help, too, Amon. Since you really like the chocobo so much!”

He spluttered, “What makes you think I _like_ …”

“Oh, I can _tell_ ,” she laughed at him.

“How many are in your Free Company party?” the Lalafell asked, rubbing his chin.

“Four of us.”

“Hm… I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Funds would be tight to offer you all a paid position. However,” the merchant tilted his head. “I suppose with such a collective protecting my cargo, I could finally expand my trade routes into more profitable locations.”

“I can’t speak for the rest of my company on this agreement, though,” Amon told him.

“I’m _sure_ they would help,” Zuri interjected. “Besides, we could always use a more stable job, rather than hunting something new every few days.”

“I suppose so. But we still need to discuss it with them.”

“That’s understandable,” the merchant nodded. “Talk with your people. You know where to find me with your answer.”

“Fair enough. I’ll return shortly,” Amon gave the chocobo’s head one last rub as he and Zuri walked away. In the distance, he could hear the bird’s troubled warbling.

“That poor thing,” Zuri said sadly.

“Couldn’t it have chosen someone else?” the Elezen sighed.

“Come on, Amon. It’s exciting! We might have a _real_ job! This could be a _good_ thing!”

He glanced down at her beaming face, observing. “You’re always so excited about everything.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Zuri laughed at him. Then she ran ahead, the sun shining off her pale hair.

Amon just smiled a bit as he watched her, and followed in silence.

“I don’t see why not. The merchant already paid us well for a smaller job. He’s proven somewhat reliable,” Mocho rubbed his cheek once Amon finished explaining the situation to the others. Then the Lalafell glanced over at Koh. “What do you think?”

“Oh… uh… me?” the cat-girl sat up straighter, not used to being asked for her input on the status of a group. “Yes. I think this could be a good longer-term job. And it seems to be important to Amon…”

The Elezen coughed into his hand. “More like it was dropped in my lap.”

“You’re fond of that chocobo,” Mocho disagreed. “I saw the way you talked to him.”

“Mmm…”

“Well, then,” Zuri clapped her hands together brightly. “Is that a _Yes_ to this?”

“It sounds like it,” Koh grinned back.

Amon just sighed, “Appreciate it.”

“Of course! We’re all friends. You can count on us for anything!” Zuri trilled at him cheerfully.

He didn’t know what to say to that. He just hoped that his surprise didn’t show too much under the shadow of his visor.


	7. The Greatest Treasure

It was late morning and Amon was shaking off the sleep-cobwebs with a freshly brewed cup of sweet Thanalan tea. Though several documents lay scattered over the small table, he was far too groggy to deal with any of it. The process of getting approved passage into Kugane was proving arduous, which was ironic considering their open policy for accepting trade and ships.

Had Amon been a merchant instead of a Bard, they may have let him in. Perhaps he could rope their new merchant employer into considering foreign trade ports.

In the middle of sorting through all these thoughts, the Elezen’s ears caught soft footsteps behind him as someone moved carefully through their Free Company house. The wood floors gave up sound easily, and since they still hadn’t fully decorated, noise tended to carry.

Amon knew the soft padding was from someone who didn’t wish to be noticed. He’d skulked about that way, usually unsuccessful, many times before. Though he was quite aware of what was going on, he didn’t move or make any indication he was aware, until the door cracked open and the sneak was on their way out.

He caught a glimpse of soft white hair and thin white tail – instantly figuring it to be Zuri. But where she’d usually be wearing her blue bardic outfit, she was dressed in her battle gear and she carried her bow slung across her back.

The Elezen set down his tea, now fully awake. It was not at all like Zuri to be sneaking about, and more so, to simply up and leave without saying something about it. She had to have known he was sitting there, and had purposely avoided him.

All of these things compounded into something akin to worry. And much to his own surprise, Amon found himself quickly dressing in his own armor, grabbing his bow, and heading out the door after her.

It took him a moment to locate her – once the Au Ra had left the house, she’d thrown all secrecy out the window. Apparently, she was convinced no one knew of her departure. But she was also making time quickly, as one does when they don’t want their absence to be noticed too soon.

All the while, Zuri studied a faded parchment that she clasped in one hand. From time to time, she’d look out at the horizon and squint with the expression of someone trying to find something.

Amon kept his distance as he trailed the girl. As she eventually led him to the marshes in Upper La Noscea, his concern faded into curiosity. This whole thing was very peculiar, and he couldn’t quite work through what Zuri was up to or why she’d come there.

Eventually, she stopped, still staring at the parchment in her hand, and took a few paces around the area. Then, she reached back along her pack and pulled out a small shovel. She began to dig.

The Elezen remained hidden behind a stone pillar – close enough to observe, but not so close as to give himself away. He watched as the girl dug and dug, sometimes struggling with stones and ground debris, other times wiping her brow and taking a long breath in. Finally, her shovel hit something audibly solid.

Zuri stopped, leaned over the hole she created, and poked around with the shovel a bit more. Then, with an excited sound, she reached in, and hauled up what appeared to be… a small treasure chest.

Amon felt his breath catch. The girl had found a treasure map! And she’d come all the way out here to claim it? But by herself?

That didn’t add up. Zuri was never one to keep secrets or material things to herself. Why did she go through so much trouble to—

His thoughts were interrupted by the girl’s shout. Just as she’d gone to open the chest, enemies appeared. Apparently they, too, were drawn by the idea of treasure.

The raptors leap from the brush faster than the eye could blink, a blur of white, gray and fangs. Their hoarse screeches bore down upon the girl with feral ferocity.

Zuri was so taken by surprise that she fumbled to pull and position her bow. Arrows tumbled out of her quiver as she tried to nock, backing away from the raptors with shaky steps.

Immediately, Amon’s own hand grasped his weapon, readying an arrow from the secrecy behind the pillar. But then, as the girl backed closer and closer to his position, he heard something.

She was summoning a Bard song, just like he’d taught her. Zuri’s voice quavered as she struggled to find the clarity to draw on the Bardic aether, but with each note, she became more sure. The music rang about her, pure and true.

Even from where Amon hid, he could feel the symphony rush through him, a song that stilled fear and drummed up courage for battle. And he watched as the girl took a firmer, more focused grip on her bow.

The Elezen lowered his own weapon, though keeping it nocked, just in case. It was not his place to interfere in Zuri’s battle. Not now. Not yet. Not until she really needed him.

True to his hopes, she proved quite capable of working it through on her own. Her arrows flew strong, fueled by song and determination. Her feet carried her surely, and while the raptors struck a few blows in return, she was able to dispatch the creatures in short order.

The fight left Zuri winded and slightly battered. She slumped down to her knees, not far from where Amon remained concealed. Her little body shook all over from a mingled shock and exhilaration.

Amon felt warmth replace the tension he’d not even realized was gripping him. He didn’t know what the sensation signified. Relief? No… this was something more. It was the feeling one got… when a nurtured child was able to find their own strength for themselves.

Eventually, Zuri gathered her wits and walked to the chest to claim her prize. Opening it, her face fell into disappointment. He could hear her soft, discouraged voice, “Oh…”

Whatever she’d expected, it was not what she received.

It was time to make himself known. Trying to cover the pity he felt at her reaction, Amon slung his bow over his back and slowly walked into the clearing.

Zuri was so intent on her disappointment that she didn’t realize he was there until his large shadow dropped over her. She startled, clearly not expecting or knowing someone to be there, until she saw who it was.

“Amon!” the Au Ra breathed, one hand on her chest.

“I apologize. I didn’t intend to startle you.”

She got to her feet, tossing a guilty look at the treasure chest. “Wh…what are you doing here?”

“You don’t really believe anything can sneak past these big ears of mine, do you?” Amon pointed to himself, tone gently teasing.

Zuri’s mouth opened, a flush of color spreading over her cheeks. Finally, after fishing for a reply, she said, “Clearly not.”

The Elezen chuckled warmly, then looked down at the chest, too. “If you were treasure hunting, you could have invited me. I wouldn’t have taken claim of your reward.”

The girl straightened, luminous eyes flicking up to his face as she shook her head. “It wasn’t like that!”

“Oh? What’s all this about, then?”

Zuri folded her hands behind her back, head down again. “I was hoping there’d be a great treasure that I could bring back for profit.”

“Mmmm?”

“With us being in Shirogane…” the girl gave him an appealing look, hands spreading as she tried to explain. “I just want… I want to show you my homeland so much. I think you’d really like it there. It might help with…”

Amon furrowed his brows, having not expected this answer. He prompted her to continue. “With?”

“I don’t know _exactly_. I _do_ know that you don’t tell me a lot of things – but that’s fine,” Zuri pursed her lips. “And I know you’re not as happy as you try to make me think you are. I think seeing Yanxia might help cheer you up… just a little.”

“Zuri…” he choked on her name, unable to find any other words in the face of such benevolence.

“But the fees to cross the Ruby Sea can get costly,” she didn’t seem to notice his internal struggle. “It wasn’t right to ask the others to fund this. I wanted to find a way to make the gil on my own.”

Amon just looked at her. He had no words.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Her face fell. “I guess I failed.”

“No.” The Elezen told her, his voice deep with suppressed emotion. “I’m _very_ surprised.”

“You’re just saying that,” Zuri’s mouth twisted into a part-smile.

“I’m not.”

The girl came to him, and in her child-like way, hugged him. Usually, this would have caused protest, but with Zuri, he’d become accustomed to sudden affection.

“I know that Koh helps you,” the Au Ra told him. “I’m not as smart as she is, but I want to help, too.”

“You do,” he tried to reassure her, but was fighting off a welling of panic.

He was getting too close. Too attached. All the reasons he wanted to care… were all the reasons he should be pushing her away.

But he didn’t. Instead, he gave her head a soft pat, then knelt down to her level. Trying to keep his voice in check, he said, “Why don’t we work on this together? Just you and I. It’ll be our project.”

Zuri’s face brightened at this. She brightened and brightened until Amon doubted there could be any more joy squished into one little body.

And with that, he assumed he had his answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


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